


A long night spent with your most obvious weakness

by manesalex



Series: Makedamnsure [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22966510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/pseuds/manesalex
Summary: Alex drives a drunk Michael home. Written for the prompt "sing for me, please."
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Makedamnsure [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650517
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	A long night spent with your most obvious weakness

“Guerin, exactly how much have you had to drink?” Alex asks as he walks into Saturn’s Rings to find Michael slumped over on the unfamiliar bar. Ever since Maria found out about the alien thing, she hasn’t wanted to see any of them and, well, Michael has moved his binge drinking over to the tourist trap.

Michael shrugs and starts to fall to the side, almost slipping off his stool. If it weren’t for Alex stepping up to catch him, he would have. He curses the way Michael leans into him, face pressing against his neck. “You smell good,” he slurs.

“And you smell like a distillery.” He just holds Michael steady as he waves over the bartender, making sure Michael’s drinks have been paid for, before he lifts Michael’s arm over his shoulder and wraps his own arm tighter around Michael’s waist. He curses his own reaction to Michael’s warmth against him, the way he wants to pull him even closer, to sink into that heat. “Come on,” he urges, helping Michael to his feet.

The change in balance and weight puts too much extra pressure on his prosthetic, but Alex grits his teeth against the pain and tries to pull Michael with him, doing his best to keep him steady, even if Michael wants to list to the side.

He finally gets Michael out to his car and helps him inside before buckling him in. And then he’s walking around and climbing in himself, opening the bottle of water he has in the cup holder and handing it to Michael. “Drink.”

“Yes, Dad,” Michael says sarcastically, missing the way Alex winces. He _knows_ Michael doesn’t mean it, _knows_ there’s a reason Michael always calls _him_ to pick him up when he’s like this. Doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

He waits until Michael starts to drink the water before starting the car and beginning the drive.

“Sing to me, please,” Michael slurs a few minutes later.

Alex glances over to see that Michael’s eyes are closed and his head is pressed against the window. He sighs, turning his gaze back to the road.

“Please,” Michael repeats. “Really miss your voice.”

He thinks of all the times Michael would ask him to sing for him as they curled up together in random motel rooms. The way Michael would smile as Alex sang whatever song was stuck in his head at the time.

He fights off tears at the memories, but nods and starts to sing quietly, “ _You've got this new head filled up with smoke and I've got my veins all tangled close to the jukebox bars you frequent, the safest place to hide._ ”

Michael is quiet for the rest of the drive. Alex makes it through the Taking Back Sunday song, two Panic at the Disco songs, and a Green Day song before they reach the Airstream.

He knows Isobel will show up in the morning to take Michael back to his truck. This is the system they’ve worked out since Max died. Alex makes sure Michael gets home safe. Isobel probably intentionally makes him suffer a bit in the morning when she takes him to pick up his truck.

Kyle keeps telling Alex he needs to stop doing this to himself, but Alex _can’t_ leave Michael to spend the night in the drunk tank without Max to watch out for him. Or worse.

He climbs out of the car and walks around. Michael only wakes when the door is opened, practically falling out of the car. He would have, if it weren’t for the seatbelt.

“Come on, Guerin. Time to go to bed.”

Getting Michael into the Airstream is always an ordeal, but Alex has gotten enough practice at it over the past couple of months that he manages to haul a stumbling Michael up the steps and inside and deposit him on the bed with neither of them falling.

He turns toward the door, only stopping at the hand catching his.

“‘m sorry, Alex,” Michael mumbles. “Should’ve come to you after.”

Alex sighs, lifting his eyes to the ceiling of the Airstream, hoping for patience. He’s not ready to do this right now. And Michael certainly isn’t sober enough for them to have this conversation.

“You’re right about me. Always trying to make you walk away. Why didn’t you?”

Alex turns back around so he can face Michael, who is looking up at him blearily, yet somehow serious. “I’m done walking away, Guerin.”

“Why?” Michael asks.

“You know why,” Alex responds. He can’t say it now. Not like this. Not while Michael’s wasted and practically unconscious.

“Me too,” Michael mumbles.

“I know,” Alex replies. And he does. He is absolutely certain of Michael’s love for him. Not that it has made any difference. All they seem to do is hurt each other.

When he looks back down, Michael is practically asleep, so Alex gives in to the urge to lean down and brush his curls off his face before pressing a gentle kiss to Michael’s forehead.

He’s startled by the hand reaching out to grab his hip. “Stay,” Michael murmurs into the pillow.

“Not tonight. But get sober and we’ll talk about it,” Alex promises.

“Deal.” It comes out as little more than a breath.

Alex brushes Michael’s curls back again before straightening up and turning away. “Get some sleep, Guerin,” he says as he heads to the door, certain that Michael will have forgotten all of this by morning.


End file.
